


Spark

by GrimmKat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Child Tony Stark, Fluff, Gen, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmKat/pseuds/GrimmKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't believe you de-aged Tony Stark."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a 6 chaptered story about Tony and his team. Each chapter will focus on a separate Avenger.   
> I hope you like it :)

“This was a terrible idea.” Bruce admitted, hugging his arms to his chest. “We should not have done this.”

“You don’t say,” Clint sniggered, inappropriately amused by the situation. “Although, I find it hilarious. Like on a scale of one to ten, in terms of how bad you guys could fuck up, this is an eleven.” 

“Steve’s going to kill me.”

“Not if the squirt gets to you first.” 

Bruce shuddered and risked another quick peek under his desk. A pair of fierce brown eyes shone bright with fear as they flickered back and forth between the two men. The eyes were partly hidden under a mop of tangled brown hair which covered the head of a small child. 

“I’m not a squirt.” The child bit out. “My name is Anthony Edward Stark and my father will have you killed for kidnapping me.” His fist was wrapped around an old, rusty screwdriver and he clutched it like a knife. 

“What do I do?” Bruce whispered. He shoved his shaking hands deep into the pockets of his lab coat. “Please help me.” 

Clint shrugged his shoulders in a what do you expect me to do sort of way. “I can’t believe you de-aged Tony Stark.” 

“It was in the name of science!” Bruce protested. “Clearly, I didn’t know this would happen!” 

“Clearly.” The archer drawled, rubbing his chin. “Well, I’m going to be the responsible adult and suggest we call Steve and tell him there’s been an emergency.”

“But he’s going to be so mad.” The doctor’s skin had turned a sickly shade of green and Clint, fearing a meeting with the Other Guy, inched towards the door. Still, he couldn’t help a quick tease. Obviously he had no sense of self-preservation.

“Now who’s the child?” 

“Steve’s worse than me when he’s angry, because he doesn’t get angry. He just gets disappointed. Do you know what it’s like to disappoint Captain America?” 

“Steve’s never disappointed in me.” Clint grinned. “It’s because his expectations are already so low.”

“Hilarious.” Went Bruce, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a long, deep breath. Clint watched as the thin tendrils of green swirled around on his face before disappearing completely. “No, I need to fix this before Steve finds out.”

“He’ll find out.” Clint warned. 

“Just… Just deal with Tony and I’ll start doing some scans.” 

“Deal with him?” Clint went, incredulously. “He thinks we kidnapped him.” But Bruce was already busy, waving a Stark-Pad over the oblong device that presumably shrunk their resident billionaire. 

Clint let out a huff, cursing the fact that it was him who Bruce called. For what reason, he had no idea. He wasn’t the smartest Avenger, or the strongest. And he sure as hell wasn’t any good with kids. Bruce should know that. Bruce was there that one time Clint accidentally made Coulson’s nephew cry. (Coulson still gave him hell for that).

He slowly made his way over to the desk that Tony was huddled under, racking his brain for something to say. Normally in a combat situation Natasha took care of calming the victims. Despite her frightening lack of it, she was always better at empathy than him.

“Stay. Away.” The child hissed as Clint neared his hidey hole. “I swear, if you get any closer I'll hurt you.” Tony waved the screwdriver in the archers direction, rocking forward on his knees. 

“I'd like to see you try.” Clint smirked before cursing himself. He was supposed to be calming the boy down, not threatening him. See? He said he was no good. 

Tony's eyes narrowed, sweeping over Clint’s uniform and focusing on the bow and quiver resting on his back. “Why are you dressed like Robin Hood?” 

“Because I'm a superhero. Name’s Hawkeye.” Went Clint, a bit surprised by the boy’s willingness to talk. But then again, it was Tony, even if he was pint-sized. 

The kid screwed up his face and shook his head. “You’re lying. You’re not a superhero. Superhero’s don’t kidnap people.”

“Not usually.” Said Clint. “Unless those people are in danger. Then we might.” He could see the gears of Tony’s brain whirling, trying to make sense of the odd situation. 

“Am I in danger?”

“I don’t know.” Clint shrugged. “But we didn’t kidnap you so the point is moot.” 

“Then why am I here!” Tony shouted, fed up with Clint’s vague answers. 

“I don’t know.” The man repeated, rubbing at his stubble. “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Tony was silent for a few moments, gnawing on his bottom lip. The question wasn’t difficult but the boy was clearly having a hard time coming up with an answer. “I remember...I was in class and then it was dark.... And then, blue?” 

“Blue?” Went Clint.

The kid nodded, fiddling with the screwdriver. “Do you promise you’re not a kidnapper?” 

“Pinky swear.” Grinned Clint. 

“Okay.” Whispered Tony.

Success. 

He finally managed to coax Tony out from under the desk, although the kid kept his white-knuckle grip on the screwdriver. Feeling confident that the boy wasn’t about to attack him anymore, Clint let him keep it as a sort of security blanket. He led the boy through the lab and over to Bruce who was now hunched over his laptop, muttering to himself. 

“I dealt with it.” Clint beamed, nudging the doctor. “Be proud of me.” 

“Good job.” Went Bruce, barely taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. 

“Tony, meet Bruce. He’s also a superhero, but he’s definitely not as cool as me.” That earned him a small smile from the boy and a quick glare from the doctor. 

“Is that a computer?” Tony suddenly piped up with a gasp. “It’s so cool!” Apparently abandoning all fear with the prospect of a fancy electronic, the boy pushed his way past Clint and edged up next to Bruce. “Where did you get it?!” 

“Um.” Said Bruce, “I made it?” Which Clint knew was only partially true. Tony himself built most of the stuff in the lab. Hell, he built most of the stuff in the entire tower. But they couldn’t exactly tell the kid that, could they? 

“Are you a super genius?” Asked Tony, brows furrowed. “Because my father’s the smartest person in the world and even he can’t make that. It looks like it’s from the future.” 

Bruce froze, hands poised comically over the keyboard. “It’s-”

“Who’s hungry?” Clint suddenly (and loudly) interjected. “Because I’m starving.” It was a cheap tactic but Tony fell for it, turning away from Bruce and the computer-from-the-future. “I’m feeling hot dogs. You?”

“O-kay.” The kid said, a bit bemused. 

“Fantastic.” Clint remarked. “Why don’t you go grab that sweatshirt over there and we’ll head to the kitchen.” He pointed across the lab to where a lump of clothing lay slung over a chair. “Don’t want you to get cold after all.”

Tony just appeared to realize that he was only wearing a pair of oversized boxers (clearly his clothes didn’t shrink with him) and flushed red, hurrying off. 

Once the kid was out of earshot, Clint leaned down and furiously whispered to Bruce. “What the hell are we supposed to tell him?!”

“I don’t know!” 

“Well he’s going to figure it out fast, the tower is pretty spanking high-tech.”

“I’m aware.” Bruce groaned. “Hopefully I can fix this before he freaks out too much.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s already freaking out.” 

The doctor groaned again and bumped his forehead against the computer screen. “We need Steve.”

“Told ya. Dibs on not telling him.” 

Bruce just sighed.

 

So, how old are you?” Asked Clint, stepping into the elevator with Tony. 

“Seven.” Said the kid. “Although I turn eight in May.” 

“That's like nine whole months away.” Clint sniggered. 

“Shut up, old man.” Tony retorted. “It doesn't matter. I bet I'm smarter than you anyways.” 

“Old man?” Clint gasped, clutching his chest. “How dare you! Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your elders?”

The kid giggled, rocking back on his heels and Clint felt a warmth blooming in his chest. It had been about 15 whole minutes and he had yet to make Tony cry. Looks like his track record with kids was improving.

The elevator gave a pleasant ding when they reached Clint’s floor, bouncing to a stop. Tony followed Clint out as he made his way through his apartment and into the kitchenette. “I said hot dogs, right?”

“Right.” Nodded Tony, climbing onto a barstool and resting his cheek in his palm. “You know I have a buncha questions.”

“I’m sure.” Clint said, popping a couple of Beef Franks into the microwave. “You can ask em’ but I might not answer.” 

“Fine.” Said Tony, apparently deciding that was acceptable enough. “Number one; where am I?”

“Avenger’s tower. It’s where me and a bunch of other superheroes live.”

“That’s cool if you’re not lying. My dad knew a superhero.” Tony went, twirling a finger in his curly hair.

“Not lying.” Said Clint. “Remember? I pinky promised.” The microwave beeped and he grabbed the hot dogs, cursing and juggling them like hot potatoes when they burned his finger. 

“You should use a fork.” Frowned Tony, sitting back as Clint dumped a Frank on the counter in front of him. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Grumbled the archer, reaching into the cupboard for some plates. “Next question?”

“What’s your name? Your real name, not Hawkeye.” The kid elaborated, squirting an unhealthy amount of ketchup on his food. 

“Barton. Clint Barton.” Said Clint with a bow. “At your service.” Tony grinned at the archer's antics and Clint was beginning to think maybe he was somewhat decent with kids after all. Who knew? 

Just then the elevator gave another ding and Clint looked up, expecting Bruce to join their little impromptu lunch. Unfortunately for Clint, it was not Bruce. It was Steve and he did not look happy.

“Bruce tells me there’s been a situation.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...that...I'm so bad...at updating??? Pls forgive me.  
> Quick note; this story takes place after AOU, except that Avengers Tower wasn't destroyed and Wanda and Vision aren't living with the team.

“Captain America.” The voice was barely a whisper but it effectively drew Steve’s attention to the small child perched on Clint’s barstool. 

“Yes?” He intoned, brow furrowed as he took in the details of the kid. Brown messy hair, inquisitive brown eyes…

“You’re Captain America.” The boy repeated, mouth hanging agape with awe. 

...with thin red scars where the arc reactor once sat visible under the oversized shirt and “Oh... Tony?”

“Ding ding ding!” Went Clint, voice muffled by the hot dog crammed in his mouth. “He gets it, give the man a prize!” 

“This is the situation?” Steve frowned, actually a bit relieved. By Dr. Banner’s frantic message, he had assumed Tony was gravely injured. Or dead. Or worse. But Tony looked fine, if not a few years younger than he should be. “How did this happen?”

“No clue.” Clint shrugged, not seeming particularly worried. In fact he looked a bit delighted. “Bruce said something about science and de-aging.”

“What's going on?” The kid went, butting into the conversation in a very Tony-like way. “Are you an imposter?”

“Am I a what?” Asked Steve.

“An imposter. You're wearing a Captain America suit but he's been missing for ages.” The child said, matter-of-factly. He had ketchup smeared on his face.

“I-” Steve started before something clicked in his brain. He turned to Clint. “You haven't told Tony what happened to him yet?” 

“Well, no. Not really.” Clint muttered, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “I mean, come on, what were we supposed to say?” He threw up his hands in a helpless sort of manner. “We didn't want to freak him out or anything.” 

Steve just sighed because Clint had a point. What were you supposed to do in a situation like this? But Tony was staring up at him with those curious brown eyes, and Steve knew they owed him an explanation. 

“What happened to me?” The kid pressed as Steve fumbled for the right words to explain. It didn't help that he knew almost none of the facts; Bruce’s message had been abrupt, only mentioning an accident in the lab. Why Tony had become a child was anyone's guess. Then he had an idea. 

“Jarv-” Steve started before remembering the truth. Tony’s omnipresent AI was gone, destroyed by Ultron months ago. He'd gotten so used to the electronic butler and, like the rest of the team, was having a hard time letting him go. He could only imagine how painful it was for Tony. 

Clint caught Steve’s mistake and shot him a sympathetic smile but the little boy remained oblivious. Well, oblivious wasn't the right word. He clearly knew something was up and his eyes kept flickering back and forth between the two adults. He looked a strange combination of both fearful and excited. 

“You've been de-aged.” Steve said, deciding to just get it over with. “At least I think that's what happened.”

Tony’s only reaction was to take another bite of hot dog. Steve and Clint exchanged glances. The soldier tried again, “Tony you've been turned into a little kid. You used to be an adult.”

The kid shrugged. “Well, yeah, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Went Clint incredulous.

“Yeah.” Nodded Tony. “It's the only explanation. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy.”

“I don't follow.” Steve said, narrowing his eyes at his pint-sized teammate. There's no way the kid could have guessed the situation unless he'd retained some of his adult memories. Which he hadn't because he'd thought Steve was a Captain America imposter.

But Tony just reached out and grabbed a newspaper sitting on the edge of Clint’s counter. He pointed towards the top. “See? It says ‘2016’. That means I'm in the future. I could have time traveled, but since you all know me already it's what he said. The getting younger thing.”

Steve was blown away by the kids solid reasoning. It seemed Tony's younger counterpart was just as brilliant as the adult.

“Huh.” Went Clint, leaning forward to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Nice job, Sherlock.” 

Tony grinned at the archers compliment. “Told ya I was smarter.”

-

Despite Tony's precociousness about the de-aging, they had a bit of trouble getting him to accept the fact that Steve was the real Captain America. 

“Captain America was lost in the war.” He argued, arms crossed. “Even if they found him, he'd be an old man by now.” 

“I was frozen in the ice.” Steve said, for the billionth time. “I didn't age.” 

“You would have froze to death.” The kid shot back. 

“The serum kept me alive.” 

“You're lying.”

Steve groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He was not enjoying the interrogation. “For the last time, Tony, I'm telling you the truth.”

“Fine then!” The kid almost shouted. “Prove it.” He stuck his lower lip out in a little half-pout.

“You guys sound like children.” Clint said, then paused. “Get it? Cause Tony's a kid?” He burst out laughing at his own poor excuse of a joke. 

“Hilarious.” Went Steve, clearly not amused. “Fine, Tony. You want proof? Your dad, Howard, and I worked together during the war. I'm sure he's told you about that. He stole a plane and flew me and Peggy Carter to rescue my friend Bucky.”

“Everyone knows about that.” Tony frowned, wrapping his arms around his knees. But he didn't look too sure of himself.

“Except the part where Howard was flying. That stayed classified.” Steve said. “But I know how much he liked his stories. He would have told you. Am I right?”

And suddenly Tony's entire demeanor changed. His head fell forward, mouth gaping open like his jaw suddenly weighed hundreds of pounds. “You're real.” He whispered, eyes wide. “My dad was right.” He hopped off his stool, threw his shoulders back and gave Steve a solemn salute. “I’m so sorry, Captain America sir.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “It’s alright, Tony.” The kid’s face flushed bright red at Steve’s words and he averted his eyes. 

“Told ya I lived with superheroes.” Clint grinned, and the kid turned to him with a scathing glare.

“Shut up.” He muttered, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. 

“So what happens now?” The archer asked, dumping the dirty dishes onto a pile of even more dirty dishes. Steve made a face.

“I don’t know. Bruce told me that he’s handling it.”

“No, I mean about Tony. We’re superheroes, not babysitters.”

“I’m NOT a baby.” Tony growled, “I don’t need supervision. I’m fine on my own.” But his eyes betrayed him, darting around with clear uncertainty. It would be a bit intimidating, Steve realized. Waking up in the future, surrounded by strangers who claimed they were superheroes. If Steve himself were in that situation he would be equally dubious. 

“That may be true, but as adults we’re responsible for your well being.” He reasoned.

“Technically I’m the responsibility of my parents, Captain. Why don’t you call them?” The kid retorted, causing Steve’s heart to sink. Tony’s parents. Clint caught his eye across the counter and slowly shook his head. 

“Sorry Tony, they’re not around right now.” Steve managed, hating himself with every word. Either the kid was astute enough to realize the double meaning to his phrasing or Steve had just blatantly lied to his teammate. Both options were unpleasant.  

Tony just shrugged. “Figures. They’re never around.” He then, having lost interest in the conversation, started gravitating towards Clint’s flatscreen. 

“Well shit.” Clint said, rubbing his neck. “This is bad, Cap. Like, really, really bad.”

“I know.” Steve agreed, dropping down onto one of the barstools. 

“Wanna drink?” 

“I can’t get drunk, Clint.” 

“Wanna hot chocolate?”

Steve almost smiled. “Sure.”

-

It was fun introducing Tony to modern TV; the boy gushed about the ‘incredible resolution’ and stood with his nose inches from the screen. He sort of reminded Steve of when he first came out of the ice (he wasn’t ashamed to admit he did the same thing with the TV for weeks). Clint found some Star Trek reruns, which was Tony’s favorite show apparently, and they managed to get the kid to settle down for a bit. 

During that time, Steve sent off a quick text to Bruce, making sure everything was alright. The doctor responded with the microscope emoji but didn’t elaborate. Steve stared down at his phone and tried to ignore the worry that was slowly growing in the pit of his stomach. What if Bruce couldn’t find out what happened? What if Tony was stuck as a child forever? 

“He needs some pants.” Clint cut in, forcing Steve out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“The kid. He’s not wearing any pants.”

“Um.”

“We should call Pepper Potts. She’d know what to do with him right?” 

“I guess.” Steve mused, a bit surprised at Clint’s suggestion. Pepper and Tony had broken up a few weeks ago, and he hadn’t seen the woman around the tower since then. “I think that we should wait on that though. Let’s see what Bruce finds out first.”

Clint shrugged. “It’s cool with me, but Nat and I have that mission in Lebanon, remember? We’re flying out tonight, so you’ll have to watch him.” 

“I don’t need ‘watching’.” Tony reminded them loudly, craning his neck over the back of the couch. He had abandoned Star Trek in favor of eavesdropping on the conversation. “Who’s Nat?”

“Another superhero.” Clint said.

“How many of you are there?” Tony wondered, eyes wide. 

“Six of us live here in the tower.” The archer supplied. “I’m sure you’ll meet them all at some point.”

“Cool.” Smiled Tony. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the left.” Clint said, pointing him in the right direction. The kid hopped off the couch, sweatshirt sleeves trailing behind him. 

“Be right back.” He promised.

Once the boy was out of sight, Steve turned to Clint with a frown. “I’m worried about him. He’s acting strange”

“Well sure. He’s been shrunk.” 

“He dropped the parent issue way too quick. He’s smarter than that.”

Clint just shrugged. “He’s a kid, kids have short attention spans. Be glad he let you off the hook so easily.” 

“I still think something’s wrong.” Steve mulled around in his thoughts for awhile before noticing that Tony had been gone for an unusually long amount of time. 

“Should I check on him?” Steve wondered. Clint shrugged, clearly unconcerned, but Steve had a bad feeling. He made his way down the hall and knocked on the bathroom door. 

“Tony?” He called. “Are you alright?” 

Nothing.

“If you don’t answer, I’m coming in.” 

Nothing.

“Tony, I’m not messing around, open up.”

Nothing.

Steve jiggled the doorknob and found it unlocked. The door swung open revealing an empty room. No Tony. “Clint, he’s gone!”


End file.
